


Five Times Henry Caught a Cold From His Resurrections (And the One Time it Helped Cure a Cold)

by wig_powder



Category: Forever (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, Gen, Sickfic, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 10:38:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21178049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wig_powder/pseuds/wig_powder
Summary: As if Henry's method of returning to life wasn't awkward enough, there's an unwanted side effect that pops up only in cold weather. Well, at least inmyideal world...





	1. One (Diamonds Are Forever)

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to take some scenes seen in the show and put my own sneezy spin on them. I've indicated which episodes they come from in the chapter titles. Hopefuly, however, they still make sense on their own.

Henry pulled the oversized coat a little tighter around him and looked over the side of the ship, watching as England disappeared from view. It was a bittersweet feeling; he was glad to be away from it, or at least from its asylums and prisons, but still and all, it had been his home. Having it closed off to him, even if it was only for a few decades, was rather painful. Not to mention the fact that he was leaving Nora behind, for good. Despite her abandonment of him, he still cared for her. If he’d only been able to show her the truth, maybe things would have been different.

A gust of wind blew in, allowing the ship to pick up speed but also causing Henry to shiver. Worse, his nose prickled with an impending sneeze, and having only one sodden handkerchief to his name, he had no choice but to muffle it with his sleeve. “_Mmp-chh!_”

Sighing, he lifted his head, dabbing gingerly at his nose with the cuff. He’d had this cold for three days, and would undoubtedly have it for at least two more. Hopefully, he could persuade someone on board to give him one of their spare handkerchiefs, so he would look less of an undignified mess whenever he went on deck. Bad enough that he was dressed in clothes two sizes too large for him and was heading to the continent with no possessions; the crew must have thought he was fleeing an angry mob. Well, they weren’t entirely far from the truth.

If he was honest with himself, he was lucky to have escaped with just a head cold. Yes, he’d “come back to himself” in the Thames, quite a few miles away from the prison, but there was every chance that he would have been recaptured, either by guards on the lookout for him or by a scandalized shopkeeper who’d call the police when confronted by a naked, freezing man emerging from the river. Instead, the only person who’d seen him was a Mr. Whales, a banker who’d assumed Henry had been assaulted by robbers. He’d given Henry food, spare clothes, and, when learning Henry wished to leave the country due to some trouble, money to pay for passage on a ship, no questions asked. Once Henry had established himself as a doctor (he was currently hoping for Vienna, though he’d need to figure out how to get there first), he would send money back as a thank you. It seemed the least he could do.

Another prickle allowed him barely enough time to bury his nose in his sleeve. “_Ngkt-chh!_”

As he sniffed, he heard the soft thud of boots on wood, and one of the officers approached him. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Morgan, but perhaps you’d be more comfortable in your cabin? The sea air may be good for the health normally, but it’s threatening rain, and in your condition, you’d probably be better off if you went indoors and kept warm.”

Henry nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. It doesn’t do me much good to stand out here, anyhow.” With one last glance at England, now a tiny dot on the horizon, he turned and went below. If he couldn’t get some rest, at least he could attempt to figure out his course of action once he finally reached European soil.


	2. Two (The Last Death of Henry Morgan)

Henry was just opening the window into Abigail’s apartment when he felt a sneeze coming on. Quickly, he jammed two fingers under his nose with one hand and held on desperately to the drainpipe with the other. The last thing he needed was to fall to the ground floor and have to go through all this _again_, or to alert Abigail or Abraham to his presence. Abigail having seen his body disappear was bad enough; seeing him alive would just make things even more complicated.

Mercifully, the sneeze backed off after a few deep breaths through his mouth and some gentle rubbing. Not wanting to allow it a chance to come back, Henry slipped the window open and ducked through, hiding in a corner until his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the apartment. The apartment was much warmer than outside had been, which Henry was grateful for. Any small respite from his shivering was all right by him.

As much as he wanted to stay there, he knew he had to move on, and quickly. Creeping over to the bassinet where Abe was being kept, he touched the tiny forehead and murmured a goodbye. Just as he straightened up, the light turned on, and Henry froze in place as Abigail stared at him from the doorway. “I…I can explain…” he said hoarsely, his mind already racing with excuses. He had skills in illusion, perhaps? Or maybe try to argue that her mind had been clouded by grief, so she’d just imagined his disappearing? No, that wouldn’t be fair to her…

Seconds later, though, all his plans were driven out of his head as Abigail hurried forward and embraced him tightly. She was murmuring too softly for Henry to pick out the words, but the sentiment came through loud and clear; she _understood_. Maybe not the details, but whatever supernatural forces were at work with his immortality, she was willing to accept them. There would be no screaming, no calling the police, no looking at him as though he were a monster. Abigail accepted him for who—what—he was.

He found himself shaking, and a cool hand was pressed to his forehead. “Oh, Henry, you’re running a fever,” Abigail whispered, voice aching with tenderness, “Come on, into the kitchen. I’ll make some tea and get you a blanket, and then, if you’re up for it, we can talk this through.”

Henry just nodded, too stunned to do much more than follow her instructions at this point. It was only when he had a blanket tucked around his shoulders and Abigail was sitting across from him, looking at him with curious, sympathetic eyes, that he found his voice again and began to tell her everything. She stayed quiet, instinctively understanding that he needed to get it all out in one speech. As he spoke, her hand reached over and rested on his own, squeezing gently. Even as his nose and throat grew increasingly blocked by congestion, that gesture was enough to allow him to soldier on.

“…that’s when I met you,” he finished at last, curling his fingers around her pinky, “And now you can see why I was hesitant to continue our relationship.”

“Are you still hesitant?” she asked, looking him straight in the eyes.

“It depends,” he said, swallowing and trying to repress a wince as his throat protested, “Are you?”

“Why would I be?” she said with a smile, “It just means that the man I love won’t be taken from me before his time.”

“There…there are other risks…”

“I’m a field nurse, Henry,” Abigail pointed out, gently but firmly, “I’m used to risks. Besides, isn’t that what a relationship is all about? Working through difficulties?”

Henry nodded. “Then…” he took a deep breath, “I’ll stay.”

Her eyes lit up, and she was just leaning in to kiss him when Henry reluctantly waved her away, turning his head to the side and pulling out his handkerchief. “_It-chhnk!_”

“Bless you,” Abigail said, squeezing his hand again, “Is this…normal for your resurrections?”

“Only when I run into the unfortunate combination of cold water and cold air,” he answered, sniffing wetly, “And even then, if I can warm myself up fast enough, I can usually stave off a cold. This time, however…”

He trailed off as his nose prickled again. “_Ah…ah-ishh!_”

A pair of soft lips met his cheek. “Bless you, Henry,” Abigail murmured into his ear, “You should probably be in bed. Try not to worry about anything other than getting well; it can all wait until you’re better. I’ll take care of everything that can’t.”

For some reason, it was that promise that finally broke down the last of Henry’s reserves. By the time she’d helped him into bed, the tears were pouring down his face, and he couldn’t seem to make them stop. Abigail climbed into bed beside him and held him close, offering reassurances and urging him to sleep. “Things will be better in the morning,” she said, “You’ll see.”

And as Henry finally managed to fall asleep, he had the distinct impression that she would be right.


	3. Three (Look Before You Leap)

“There you are, Doctor Morgan,” Detective Martinez said, sticking her head inside Henry’s office, “Are you busy? Because I’m heading over to the college to ask some questions about Vicky Hulquist’s death, and a second pair of eyes wouldn’t go amiss.”

“No, I’m not busy,” Henry said, quickly shoving the mysterious letter into a desk drawer so she wouldn’t ask too many questions, “I’d be delighted to come with you.”

Martinez cocked her head. “What is it?” Henry asked nervously, wondering if his anxiety over the letter was showing on his face.

“Your voice sounds sort of…garbled,” she said, stepping into the room, “I can’t tell if I’m just not used to your accent, or…”

Her eyes lit on the bottle of aspirin that Henry’s “admirer” had left, which he had forgotten to hide away, and her expression changed from puzzled curiosity to understanding sympathy. “Ah, I see.” Just as Henry’s anxiety was about to move into full-blown panic, Martinez said “I take it it’s not a bad cold, given that you came to work.”

Henry exhaled, the tension draining from his shoulders. “Not at the moment, no. But it only just started, so it might get worse as the week goes on.”

Martinez grinned slightly. “Well, physician, heal thyself,” she joked, “I’m sure you’ve got some methods to keep it from getting too bad. But in the meantime, grab your coat and come on.”

“Are you sure you still want me to go?” Henry asked, even as he rose to his feet, “I’d understand if you didn’t want to expose yourself to my illness.”

“Doctor, I don’t know you very well, but even my limited experience with you tells me that you’re the type who tries very hard to keep his germs to himself. Besides, I’ve got hand sanitizer in the glove compartment. I’m willing to take the risk.” Henry smiled faintly at that and fetched his coat and scarf.

The exploration of Vicky’s room proved surprisingly fruitful, even if Henry had had to spend most of the visit with his handkerchief over his nose out of deference to her roommate, who had given him a disgusted look when he’d sniffed and then muttered something about “a big test coming up”. As he and Martinez headed down to talk to Vicky’s Latin professor, he caught sight of her grinning at him. “What?” he asked.

“Like I said,” she chuckled, pointing to his handkerchief, “You keep your germs to yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in the real world use a handkerchief.”

“Yes, well, I’m rather…old-fashioned,” Henry said, feeling oddly self-conscious and tucking the handkerchief away, “I’ve never really liked tissues. They just seem too thin.” He could see Martinez looking at his nose and knew she was mentally making a few jokes involving size or mess, but happily, she kept them to herself. Grateful for that, Henry turned his attention to the task at hand.

A grad student, Paul, led them to the basement where Professor Browning was teaching, and then instructed them to put on gloves “to prevent contamination,” he said, giving Henry a pointed look. Henry snapped on the gloves and equally pointedly pulled out his handkerchief again. Nodding his satisfaction, Paul allowed them in.

Browning was understandably upset about the loss of one of his students, and was also more than happy to talk about the codex they had been working on together. But after a while, Henry suspected there was something the professor was keeping to himself. Catching sight of a piece of paper left askew and face down on Browning’s desk, Henry decided to engage in a little bit of subterfuge. While the evidence he’d gathered so far to support his suspicions wouldn’t stand up in court, if it gave Martinez a line of questioning to work with, it was all to the good.

So while Browning waxed rhapsodically about the codex, Henry carefully unwound his scarf until it was hanging loosely off his neck. Then, positioning himself at the optimal angle, he closed his eyes and massaged his nose with the handkerchief, quietly coaxing the vague tickle he’d felt all day to grow into something a little stronger. At last, it obliged him, and Henry pressed the handkerchief to his face with both hands, pitching forward with a “_Hresshh!_”

Just as planned, the scarf slid off his neck and fell to the floor. While Martinez blessed him and Browning warned him about the codex again, Henry apologized and bent to retrieve his scarf, glancing up at the paper as he did so. He smiled slightly as he got the confirmation he needed, then carefully composed his face as he straightened up, rubbing at his nose with his handkerchief. “I am sorry,” he apologized again, “I’ll wait outside until Detective Martinez is finished. My nose can be a bit troublesome when I’m ill.”

He hadn’t been lying about that; now that he’d started, the sneezes were in no mood to just fade away. When Martinez finally emerged three minutes later, Henry was on his seventh sneeze. “_Etpshh!_”

“Bless you, Doctor,” Martinez said sympathetically, “I could hear you through the wall. Are you up for continuing, or would you rather I drive you home?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Henry said, “As long as you’re willing to have me around, I’m glad to stay. Besides,” he added, once they were well away from the classroom, “I’ll be curious to see how many of Vicky’s friends knew she was having an affair with her professor.”

Martinez stared at him. “How do you know she…”

Henry rattled off his lists of observations, finally finishing with his trump card. “And that letter on Professor Browning’s desk was not only written in Latin, but the handwriting matched the bits of writing I saw around Vicky’s desk back in her room. Why would he keep that paper face down if it was just something related to the codex?”

Martinez blinked at him, eyes flicking from his handkerchief to his scarf as she put the pieces together. Then she shook her head, “You’re an odd man, Doctor Morgan,” she said, “But I won’t deny that your unorthodox methods sometimes come in handy. Now come on; I think we’ve got a few questions to ask Browning’s wife.”


	4. Four (The Frustrating Thing About Psychopaths)

“Hello, Henry,” Adam said smoothly, the mediocre reception from the cell phone adding an extra dash of menace to the deep voice, “I do hope your resurrection went smoothly.”

“Am I going to have to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder?” Henry growled in response, “Always wondering if you’ll come to kill me again?”

“Relax, Henry,” Adam said, sounding maddeningly calm, “This was a one-time-only thing, a way to get you out of trouble. Which I still haven’t received a thank you for, by the way.”

“You honestly expect me to thank you?” Henry said in disbelief, “Who _thanks_ someone for cutting their throat? Next you’ll be demanding I thank you for sending me threatening no…”

He’d been struggling against a sneeze for the entire conversation, but now he had no choice but to let it out. He covered the phone with his hand and turned his head away, trying to keep the volume down. “_Teshh!_”

Alas, his technique hadn’t worked, because Adam was chuckling when Henry put his ear back to the phone. “Bless you. Caught a cold from the river, did you? I’ve always found that warm blankets, a hot drink, and a day of rest generally cleared up my symptoms. Of course, that requires that one actually stay in bed, which you seem positively loath to do. One of these days that habit is going to come back to bite you, Henry.”

“Spurred on by you, no doubt,” Henry shot back, “If you want to talk about our…condition, why don’t you just meet me face to face?”

“Because this is much more fun,” Adam answered, as if it were obvious, “I enjoy toying with you, Henry. Seeing if I can break down that genteel, noble manner of yours to get you to come up to my level.”

“I’ll never be like you.” Henry said angrily, the effect marred by a watery sniff and an inability to pronounce his n’s.

“Give it time…” Adam smirked, “You really should be in bed, you know. Keep that up and your next autopsy will end in disaster when you sneeze on the corpse and contaminate the body beyond repair.”

Disgusted, Henry ended the call and hurled the phone into the river. Then he tightened the scarf around his neck and shivered. Adam was right that being out in the wind wasn’t helping, but at this point, Henry was almost willing to remain where he was out of pure spite. Thankfully, he remembered that Jo was still in the bar, no doubt waiting for him to finish up his call. Turning back towards the door, he shook his head at Adam’s presumptions. As if a doctor with 200 years of life experience didn’t know how to deal with a cold. Adam must have been madder than he’d thought.


	5. Five (Skinny Dipper)

“Look there!” Henry said, pointing down into the water.

It took Abe a minute, but he soon spotted the gun resting near one of the pylons of the dock. “Great. You found the gun Adam killed himself with. Why don’t you call Jo and ask her to send…”

His voice trailed off when he saw Henry stripping off his coat and scarf. “What on earth are you _doing?_” he demanded.

“I’m getting the gun,” Henry answered, as if it were obvious, “Then I can examine it and maybe figure out who Adam is once and for all.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you take that cough medicine,” Abe said, shaking his head, “It always does strange things to your mind. _Why_ do you think this is a good idea, as opposed to, oh, I don’t know, _letting the police handle it_?”

“This is between him and me,” Henry answered, as he removed his shirt and started shivering in the night air, “I don’t want anyone else to get involved and put themselves at risk.”

“Henry, the water’s going to be freezing at this time of night, and you’re already sick from your last dip. So you get the gun; then what? You’ll probably be stuck in bed with hypothermia and unable to examine the gun anyway. Just let me call the police and you can tell them what you found. There was a bullet hole in the cab, they aren’t going to find it strange that you deduced where it went.”

“I’ll be fine,” Henry insisted, now down to his boxers, “It’ll only be for a few seconds, if I dive in and grab it on the first try. Then you can pull me out, I’ll dry myself off, and the worst that happens is I have a bad case of chills for the rest of the night.”

“I’d be more persuaded if your nose wasn’t running and your lips weren’t currently turning blue,” Abe said sarcastically, “Now get your clothes back on before…”

At that moment, a police siren squawked nearby, and a car pulled up to the dock, shining its headlights directly at Henry. “Step away from the edge and put your hands up!” someone called.

Henry obeyed sheepishly, though the combination of bright light in his face and the cold in his head caused him to snap forward with two sharp sneezes. “_Krshh! Hreshh!_”

As he blearily raised his head, he caught sight of Abe with his face in his hand. Henry winced; oh, he was never going to hear the end of this from Abe and Jo, albeit for entirely different reasons.


	6. Six (Original, Post-Show)

“_Hichff!_”

“Bless you, Henry,” Jo said, glancing over as Henry carefully dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief, “Are you sure you’re up for investigating the crime scene?”

  
“I’ll be fine,” Henry assured her, “It’s indoors, and the area’s been looked at and photographed, so there’s minimal risk of me contaminating the crime scene…except in the traditional way,” he amended, when Jo’s eyes flicked down to the handkerchief, “I assure you, Jo, I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I didn’t feel up for it. Besides, I felt like I needed to do _something_ besides sit at my desk and go over paperwork.”

“Any idea where this came from?” Jo asked, as she turned the heat up slightly in the car, despite the perfect seventy degree weather outside.

Henry shook his head. “Sometimes, we just fall ill. I can’t pinpoint where I picked this up, but I’m guessing it’s no more than your typical summer cold. I should be fine in a few days as long as I don’t overdo it.”

“Oh, yes, because the odds of _that_ are overwhelmingly small,” Jo said affectionately, “Seriously, Henry, promise me you’ll go to bed at a reasonable time tonight.”

“You have my word,” Henry promised, “Besides, Abe would drag me to bed in this state anyway. Anytime my nose turns excessively pink, he starts hovering.”

“Perhaps I’m going to have to enlist him to make sure you stay in bed when you’re too sick to work,” Jo chuckled, “For your own good.”

Henry smiled slightly before being forced to return the handkerchief to his face. “_Chnxt!_”

“Bless you,” Jo said, taking pity on him and changing the subject, “So, is there anything I should be looking for once we get to the apartment?”

***

“Good morning, Lucas,” Henry said pleasantly, as he walked into the morgue the next morning, “Has Detective Martinez been down yet?”

“Not yet,” Lucas said, looking up from his clipboard, “Which should give you just enough time to…”

He trailed off, staring at Henry in bewilderment. “What is it, Lucas?” Henry asked mildly.

“It’s just…yesterday you were white as a sheet, your nose could compete with Rudolph’s, and you sounded like you were half-dead. But now you’re looking better than ever!”

“I believe I just had some forty-eight hour bug,” Henry said with a shrug, “A good night’s sleep and plenty of water sorted me out.”

“It’s not fair,” Lucas muttered, mostly to himself, as he started setting up the morgue for the day, “Every time _I’m_ sick, it takes two weeks before I look normal again. How does he _do_ it?” Henry resisted the urge to laugh, instead going to the opposite side of the room to help with the preparations.

Fifteen minutes later, Jo arrived. “Has Henry come in yet?” she asked Lucas, Henry having been hidden by the open door, “Or did he do the smart thing and stay in bed today?”

“I saw no need for that, Detective,” Henry said, stepping into her line of sight, “I felt well enough to work, and why waste the sick day if that’s the case?”

Jo blinked at him for a few seconds, then arched one eyebrow. “I…take it you took my advice to go to bed early yesterday?”

“I was in bed by eight pm,” Henry assured her, “And I must admit, that was the right choice. Any news on the Dayton case?”

“That’s why I came down. I’m heading out to question the victim’s sister. Up for joining me?”

“Always,” Henry said, taking off his lab coat and replacing it with his jacket, “Keep an eye on things, Lucas, and don’t be afraid to call Martinez’s phone if something urgent comes up.”

Lucas nodded and waved him off, still grumbling about Henry’s health. Henry managed to keep a straight face until he and Jo had made it into the elevator. Jo, meanwhile, held her tongue until they got outside and were heading for the car. “All right, what _really_ happened?”

“You told me to get to bed early,” Henry said, “You didn’t specify what I should do before then. After dinner, I went out to the movie theater where Dayton was last seen and made a brief investigation of the area, in the hopes of finding something.”

“And did you?” Jo asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Only that they don’t sell the type of candy that Ann Ceres claimed Dayton purchased. But she’d already claimed they saw a film that hadn’t been released yet, so that doesn’t come as a great surprise. At any rate, I left the theater and was walking home, planning to keep my promise and go to bed immediately afterwards. I was taking a shortcut down an alleyway that I’ve used numerous times, only to be attacked by an angry dog. I’m not sure if he was a stray or an escaped pet, but he wasn’t pleased with his situation and clearly thought I’d intruded on his territory. One bite to the jugular, and, well…”

“You could have called me, you know,” Jo pointed out, “If nothing else, we could have rounded up the dog and figured out if he had a home to go back to.”

“Old habits,” Henry said, though he did feel a twinge of guilt at her words, “I’m…not used to more than one person being aware of my oddities.”

“It’s all right, Henry,” Jo said, “I think we’re all still feeling things out. But thank you for being honest…and for attempting to keep your word.”

“But I did,” Henry said with a smile, “After Abe picked me up, I took a quick shower and went straight to bed at seven fifty. I thought it was the least I could do.”

Jo laughed and opened the car door. “You’re always going to be full of surprises, Henry. Now let’s get going; Reece wants this case solved as soon as possible.”


End file.
